Beneath the Flaws
by YouThinkYouNoeMe
Summary: An injury sends Jay on a path of self destruction. Characters-Pairings: Christian-Trish, Edge-Lita, Jericho-Stacy, Tyson Tomko, others.
1. Default Chapter

**Beneath the Flaws**

**Rating**: R, for language, some sexual content, drug use, etc.

**Characters**/**Pairings**: Christian/Trish, Edge/Lita, Jericho/Stacy, Tyson Tomko, others?

**Disclaimer**: All characters are property of WWE and themselves.

**Summary**: An injury sends Jay onto a path of self destruction...

Part 1_  
As the young woman drove past a row of stores, located on the main rode of a town she was passing through, her mind drifted away from the street. She always began to reminisce at the most inopportune times. It was probably because she didn't want to think about it. It was a time she hated to revisit, full of enough drama and pain to last a lifetime... a time in which more tears were shed than she ever though possible to produce.  
  
One would think that memories of something that caused that much heartache and suffering - on everyone's part - would stay buried in the past, where they belonged. But in fact, she revisited them quiet often; they were a stark reminder for what she had, and to be thankful that he made it through the mess alive and well.  
  
Watching the man she loved more than life itself deteriorating before her eyes was more frightening than one could ever imagine. It was a horrifying, terrible experience, and she prayed every day that neither of them, or their friends for that matter, would have to go through it again.  
  
One thing was for certain; no matter had much time passed, they would never be the same, and neither would their relationship. She still couldn't bear to be away from him for one night, fearful that one night was all that he would need to be sucked back in. She had watched him drift through that black hole once before, watched as his life spiraled out of either of their control. And she didn't do a damn thing about it... not till it was almost too late.  
  
Her mind liked to play tricks on her sometimes, especially late at night. She still had the nightmares, the same ones that had plagued her since the beginning. There were still nights when she would awake in a cold sweat, and she would have to press her fingers to his neck to make sure he still had a pulse, or press her head to his chest to ensure he was still breathing. She knew that she'd never have an undisturbed night of sleep again.  
  
The ordeal had left her traumatized. What probably stung at her heart worst of all was that she couldn't talk to him about it. He liked to pretend it never happened before, he told himself that if he could make himself forget about it, than it never really happened in the first place. To be honest, she didn't blame him. And even if she couldn't forget, she respected his decision, and she loved him far too much to force him to dig up the memories.  
  
So instead, she would think to herself, sneaking glances at him all the while to remind her that he was still around, despite all that happened._  
Earlier that year  
  
Once they pushed through the curtain, the expression on her face, the one she always wore to the ring, had disappeared. She tilted her head to the side, frowning as she examined his face closely. He was bleeding like crazy, so badly that she couldn't even tell where the actual cut was. He looked to be in a great deal of pain, and it just about broke her heart.  
  
Almost immediately after they had come through the curtain, Chris was behind them. He rushed to their side, his eyes gleaming with concern.  
  
"Hey, man, are you okay?" he asked.  
  
He was hurting like hell himself, but he was a little more worried about his friend's well being. Both of them knew damn well what came with the territory of performing in a steel cage match, but at the same time, Chris feared he may have went a little too hard on him.  
  
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Jay Reso replied, his arms still wrapped around Trish Stratus and Tyson Tomko. "Just bladed a little too deep... I just need to sit down."  
  
Tomko helped him over to a nearby equipment crate, where both he and Trish let go of Jay, the blonde man plopping down on it with a groan. Tyson eyed him in silence, the slightest bit of worry showing in his usually unexpressive eyes.  
  
"You sure you're alright, boss?" he asked, standing in front of the crate.  
  
Jay glanced at up him, smirking as he nodded his head. Tomko had called him 'boss' since the day he debuted.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured him.  
  
After asking if there was anything else he could do, Tyson - who was even quieter than his character, if possible - made himself scarce, leaving Chris, Trish, and Jay at the gorilla position. Trish watched Tyson disappear, and then returned her gaze to Jay's direction, her dark eyes focusing again on his bloodied forehead.  
  
"Don't move," she advised him, placing her index finger on his bare chest. "I'm going to get something to clean you up so the trainer can take a look at you. I'll be right back."  
  
With that, she backed away from him, heading back to the bathrooms in her locker room, where she hoped she'd find a washcloth or something of the sort to help clean up his face. A small smile came to her lips as she thought of Jay.  
  
The two of them became an item back in November of 2003, when the angle involving herself, Chris, and Jay also included her best friend in the women's locker room, Amy Dumas. It was almost strange to work on screen with him as well - Stacy Keibler had told her horror stories of what working on screen had done to her ill-fated relationship with Andrew Martin - but she had grown to love it, and to love him. He made her transition into being a heel so easy for her, partly because he was one of the best in the business.  
  
Her smile faded as she reached the locker room, all of sudden remembering why she had set out for it in the first place. The room was empty, not surprisingly since Jay and Chris had the last match of the night. She ran through the bathroom, grabbing one of the small washcloths from the rack. She turned the cold water on and ran it underneath the stream. She soaked it completely before shutting the water off, ringing it out a bit to drain the excess water.  
  
Then, she headed out of the room and back to where she'd left Jay. When she reached him, Trish noticed that he was alone.  
  
"Where's Chris?" she asked, tapping his knees lightly.  
  
He glanced down, spreading his legs a bit so that she could stand between them.   
  
"He went to the trainer. Vince insisted earlier that we both get checked out after the match, so Chris figured he'd get in and out so I can head in," Jay explained to her.  
  
Trish nodded, raising the rag up to his face.  
  
"Now, just hold still a minute," she instructed. "I want to clean some of this up so I can try and figure out where the damn cut is."  
  
Jay nodded, knowing full well that any protests to her plans would be pointless. Trish pressed the wet cloth to his forehead, silently thinking to herself that this was the last time the white rag would ever be used. She gently wiped away at the blood and sweat that had gathered there. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he jumped, a small moan of pain escaping his lips. Trish removed the cloth, gazing at him with concern.  
  
"What is it? Too cold? Too much pressure?" she asked, wondering what she had done to cause him pain.  
  
Truth was, she hadn't done anything. In fact, the pain he was experiencing wasn't even in his head. He brushed her hand away, taking it his own as a pained expression in his features. He hadn't said anything before because the pain hadn't been too severe... now, he wasn't sure if he could even stand if he tried.  
  
"No, not my head, Trish. It's my back... my back is killing me..."


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

Not long after Jay had told Trish about his back, the blonde woman had insisted he see a doctor immediately. He of course refused, stubborn man that he was. But when he awoke in the middle of the night, unable to sleep because of the terrible amount of pain he was in, she vehemently ordered him to see someone first thing in the morning. All the trainers had done earlier that evening was give him a pre-examination estimation of how serious it was, and more often than not, their guesses were not totally accurate.

"Trust me honey, you need to go," she told him that night. "The longer you wait to get this thing checked out, the worse off you'll end up."

Now, she stood just outside the room he had entered with a physician nearly a half hour ago, her cell phone in hand. She exhaled heavily, resting her back against the wall. Her eyes darted around a bit before settling on the clock across the room, her lips turning downward as she took note of the time. It seemed like Jay had been in with that doctor for an eternity. She leaned down slightly, raking a worried hand through her hair.

When she lifted her gaze, Trish breathed a sigh of relief as she saw a woman heading towards her. She pushed herself off the wall and approached her.

"Thank you so much for coming up here, Ames," she said, placing a hand on the shoulder of Amy Dumas. "We both appreciate it."

Amy shook her head, taking Trish's hand in her own.

"No need to thank me, Trish," she insisted. "I know first hand how scary this type of thing can be, for the injured person and for their significant other."

Despite the fact that Jay's injury was much more mild than her own, the redhead couldn't help but think back to when she had broken her neck. Those long, tedious hours she had to wait in the hospital before they even told her what was wrong had been some of the most terrifying in her life. Her heart went out to Trish, and especially to Jay.

Over the years, the two of them had formed a very unique relationship... she'd even go as far as to call him her best friend. Trish was one of her best friends, Chris was one of her best friends, but Jay was by far the best. They found that they had an incredible amount in common, and they had become like brother and sister. It worred her a great deal to think he could be hurt at all, no matter how serious.

"Speaking of significant others..." Trish murmured, half under her breath, as her gaze slipped past Amy.

Raising an eyebrow at the peculiar comment, Amy turned her back to Trish. Her eyes fell upon a tall, blonde figure, who was also headed their way. Hoping that he hadn't caught a glimpse of her looking at him, she glanced back at Trish, who wore a pensive gaze.

The blonde diva only hoped that Amy would not be mad at her for leaving the fact that he would be coming as well out of their conversation from earlier that morning.

"Hi, Adam," Trish spoke as he approached.

"Hey, Trish," Adam Copeland replied, before tentatively switching his gaze to the redhead. "Hi..."

Adam and Amy had become an item all the way back in 2001, right around the time Vince McMahon had purchased WCW. Things between them had gotten pretty serious, to the point where rumors began to circulate that Adam was going to propose. However, much to the surprise of practically everyone in the company, they split up in 2003, during Adam's recovery following his neck surgery. What was even more strange than their breakup was that neither of them gave so much as a word of an explanation as to why.

And now, nearly a year later, they stood side by side. They weren't hostile by any means - the breakup had at least been a mutual decision - but the close proximity with which they stood undoubtedly made things awkward.

Thankfully, before the thick silence surrounding them could become any heavier, the door opened from behind Trish. An elder, white male emerged, and Trish recognized him as the doctor Jay had been assigned. He gave the group a small nod before tucking the clipboard he held under his armpit, walking away from them.

Tilting her head in the direction of the door, Trish silently suggested they go inside. Adam jumped to the door, holding it open for the two ladies to enter before following them into the room.

-------------------------------------

"So basically, I'm done," Jay told Adam, Amy, and Trish with a sigh. He placed his hands in his lap, glancing up at his friends from the examination table on which he sat.

All three of them frowned at his negative response, but Trish's was the deepest. Walking over to her boyfriend, she hopped up on the table and took a seat next to him. Studying his face closely, Trish placed a reassuring hand on his knee.

"Come on now," she said softly, "don't say that. You're not i done /i , Jay... you're just having a set back."

Shrugging his shoulders, Jay mumbled a reply, "I am for now."

"Don't think that way," Amy suggested from across the room, a look of deep concern in her hazel eyes. "Trust me, I know from experience that that type of mentality only makes matters worse."

Jay glanced over at her, nodding as he took her statement into consideration. He could recall more than one occasion during her neck injury where she called him crying, stressing over how she'd never be better. He didn't want to be that pessimistic, especially considering that his injury was nowhere near as serious as a broken neck. But frankly, the situation sucked, and he wasn't going to pretend to be accepting of it.

"You're probably right," he commented, looking her in the eye. "But it's not going to be good, Ames. I still have to be away from the ring, and I'm sure as hell not looking forward to spending the next six weeks alone."

"You don't have to do this alone, Jay," Adam spoke up. "You can't do this type of thing on your own. I learned that the hard way with my neck."

Though he didn't take notice of it, a hurt look crossed Amy's face. She knew that, even though he didn't come out and say it, Adam was indirectly referring to her. And whether it was intentional or not, his remark hit a nerve.

"He's right, babe," Trish agreed with a firm nod. "You won't have to do this alone. I'll be with you every step of the way, and so will Amy and Adam... right guys?"

The pair nodded simulatenously, both offering encourage smiles to their distressed friend. Jay forced a smile for their behalf, though he couldn't bring himself to mean it.

Their conversation fell into silence, only to be interrupted by Adam's cell phone ringing a few minutes later. He stepped out in the hallway to take the call, leaving the other three in the room. Amy figured the couple might have wanted a minute or two alone, so she excused herself from the room as well, deciding to hunt down a soda machine. Once she was gone, Trish turned her attention back to Jay, studying his profile intently.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Placing his arm around her waist, Jay bit back a pained grimace, forcing another smile to the surface. He couldn't let her see how much he was hurting.

"I guess I'll be fine..."


	3. Part 3

**Part 3**

A quiet sigh emitted from the lips of Chris Irvine, the blonde man raking a hand through his long hair. For what seemed to be the millionth time that week, his mind was plagued with guilt. Jay had barely been gone for a week, and Chris was about ready to yank his hair out by the strand.

He felt absoutely terrible for what he had done, even if it was an accident. And as selfish as it might have sounded, if he heard Jay's name one more time, he would snap. Though he knew none of them had done so intentionally, each time one of his coworkers mentioned his friend's name, it reminded Chris of why he was gone in the first place.

"Hey now, why the long face?"

Chris raised his head, which was resting in his hands, and he glanced up. A soft smile touched his lips as he saw her making her way towards him. Of all the people he had run into that day, she was the one he was most looking forward to seeing.

"Oh nothing, Stacy," he replied, gesturing for her to come to him.

He wasn't quite sure what he and Stacy Keibler were. She wasn't technically his girlfriend, though he knew that sometimes both secretly considered themselves a couple. Ever since her rocky breakup with Andrew Martin, a former friend of his, Chris and Stacy had become extremely close.

At this piont, he waws very infatuated with the leggy diva, and regardless of whether or not she was _technically _his girlfriend, he was sure as hell going to treat her as such. He was never fond of technicalities anyway.

"It sure doesn't look like nothing," she spoke again, interrupting his thoughts.

Chris slipped from his trance, his eyes resting on her. Stacy came to a stop before him, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Just stressing over some things is all," he assured her with a forced smile. "Don't worry about it."

A frown crossed Stacy's face. Though he hadn't exactly specified what was stressing him so much, she knew what it was. It had been on his mind constantly as of late.

"Chris, how many times can I tell you this? What happened to Jay was not your fault," she insisted, crossing her arms hastily in front of her. "I know it, he knows it... and I'm sure you know it, too."

A sigh slipped from his lips, and Chris gave her a weak shrug.

"I do know it, Stace, but my heart keeps telling me differently. I just... I feel like I should've protected him better..."

"Stop it. You know damn well you did everything you could. Jay went into that match last night knowing full well what he was risking. I may not know much about wrestling, but I do know that there was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened."

He wasn't about to argue the seriousness of her tone. Despite her tiny form, Stacy was a very firm, daresay intimidating young woman. Hell, even if she wasn't, he knew she was right.

He smiled, reaching out and taking her wrists in his hands, tugging at them in an almost pleading manner. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her waste and resting his head on her stomach.

"You're right, Stacy. And I'm sorry that I keep sulking like this, but I'll get over it. It's just hard right now, ya know?" he asked, tilting his head back so that he could look up at her.

"I know, Chris, I know," she replied with a sigh, tossing her arms lightly around his neck.

------------------------------------

"I think I'm losing my mind already."

Trish giggled at the lighthearted comment made by her boyfriend. She shifted onto her side, resting up on her hip as she glanced over at Jay, who was laying beside her on the bed.

"That's not good, you've only been out for a week," she said, adding in a playful pout.

Jay groaned, rubbing at his tired eyes. Sitting around the house all day was destroying his metabolism, and it left him with absolutely no energy. It wasn't even a matter of being tired... he just felt like, for lack of a better term, a blob. He was normally such an active person, and now that his doctors had advised him to avoid any physical activity for another week or so, he didn't know what to do with himself. He wasn't made to sit still.

"I know, but you have to understand this," he began to reply, tossing his arms to his sides and staring up at the ceiling, "I haven't had a real injury in five years. It's been five whole years since Ihve had more than a few days off, and I have no clue what to do to pass time. I cannot sit around all day and watch TV... it drives me crazy."

"Jay, you'll figure something out," Trish insisted, placing her hand over his. "Of course it's hard, but you'll get used to it. You just have to find other things to occupy your time."

"You make it sound simple. The only thing I'm allowed to do right now that requires any type of physical exertion at all is shower, and that's not exactly an exciting event," he reminded her.

Trish's lips came together in a pout. She hated seeing his spirits down like this, but she really couldn't blame him for it. He had being going strong for such a long amount of time, this injury was a hard blow not only to his body, but to his mind as well. She knew how aggravating it was for her when she had been forced to have foot surgery back in 2001. Those three months she spent out of action were unbearable.

She opened her mouth to comfort him, but he went on with his speech.

"And you know what the worst part of all this shit is?" he questioned, and judging by his distant expression, Trish guessed that Jay was asking himself and not her. "Our angle together was just beginning to pick up. And now, because I was too blind to see this stupid injury coming, it's going to waste away to nothing. What could have arguably been the most successful angle of my career is shot."

"You don't know that, Jay," she insisted, grabbing his chin and tilting his head so that he was looking at her. "I know it seems like forever, but trust me, sweetie, six weeks is not a very long time. There's a good chance things won't change... I'm sure they won't."

Jay sighed... though he still didn't agree with her, he gave in. If any type of debate were to come from their discussion, she would no doubt win. She always won. She was way too intellectual for him. Adam always joked that she was the brains of their relationship.

"I hope you're right," he said finally, after a long silence. "I'm just not looking forward to being alone, sitting around and waiting to find out."

Once again, Trish found herself having trouble transforming her thoughts into coherent sentences. Words and emotions were tumbling around in her mind, but none seemed to formulate together. She sat still, silent for a long while before she tentatively spoke again.

"You're not going to be alone, you'll..."

"I know I'm not going to be alone, Trish," he cut her off, almost hostily. "But you can't tell me it's not going to feel that way. It's already such an awkward situation, and then to think of how weird it's going to be for all the people I care about, too... it's just a lot of stress."

"What are you talking about?" Trish asked him, confusion etched on her face.

"Just think about it," he said to her, shifting slightly so that his body was turned toward her. "You saw how uncomfortable Adam and Amy were at the hospital. Both of them are going to want to help, and that means that they're going to have to be around each other again... because of me. Stacy's told me how guilty Chris feels, and that he's practically scared to show his face around me... because of me. I'm just praying that my attitude doesn't get so bad that the situation becomes too hard for you, too."

Trish sighed, rubbing her thumb across his cheek. She rose up to her knees, leaning toward him and cupping his face in her hands. She kissed him, soft but still passionate, and then moved her head to his shoulder. Resting it there, she hugged him tightly, exhaling loudly as she felt his arms wrap around her.

"I'd never do that to you, and you know it."

Heaving a sigh of his own, Jay held Trish tightly. He held her that way for a long while, even when she tried to pull away. He knew that she would never leave him. But there was a small part of him that felt that even though she would never want to leave, he could make her feel that she had no other option.

He let go only when a sharp pain shot through his back, grimacing in both pain and reluctancy as he released her from his embrace.


	4. Part 4

**Part Four**

"He's just really starting to worry me, Ames," Trish said, eyeing the redhead almost sadly.

Amy sighed as a thoughtful gaze filled her hazel eyes. A few weeks had passed since Jay had gone down with his injury, and the Canadian was definitely not handling the situation as best as he could. In fact, he was taking it worse than all of them had expected. Amy's greatest fear was that Trish would give up on him.

"Trish, I know first hand how low you feel when you're in that scenario. The best thing you can do for him is to be up his ass. Make sure he knows that you support him and that he'll be okay," she explained, thinking back not only to her own injury, but to Adam's as well.

"I am doing that," Trish replied with a nod, "but it seems like it's not enough. He's still drifting..."

"Trust me, it's probably not as bad as you think. There's no denying that he's really down on himself, and he will be for some time now. But I guarantee the support will sink in on him. He's a trooper, Trish... he'll be okay," Amy insisted.

Trish couldn't hold back a sigh, raking her fingers through her blonde tresses. She wanted to believe Amy, but her advice just didn't seem to be enough, not in this case.

"I just don't know..."

"Trish, just keep talking to him. It's going to be tough, but you'll lose him a whole lot quicker if you guys aren't communicating. I hate to admit it, but that's what ultimately caused our break up," Amy said, lowering her head sadly.

Trish glanced up at her friend, a speculative look in her eye. She didn't have to ask who Amy was talking about... she referred to things concerning her and Adam as 'our' all the time, even months after they broke up. Only that wasn't quite the way she remembered things happening.

"Amy, that can't be true. You and Adam spent more time together when your relationship was falling apart than you did while you guys were happy. You talked all the time," she said.

Amy sighed, rising from her seat next to Trish.

"That's just it, though. We talked all the time, but we never talked. If I had been there for him like I should have during his rehab, we'd probably still be together."

A sympathetic gaze took over Trish's features. Reaching out to her, Trish placed her hand around Amy's, giving it a gentle, consoling squeeze. Studying her closely, she arched a brow. If she didn't know any better, she'd say Amy still had serious feelings for her ex-boyfriend.

"You still think about him," she said.

Though she originally intended for her statement to be a question, the answer was obvious anyway. Amy nodded her confirmation, biting her lip softly. The two women fell into silence, and after a brief moment, Amy pulled her hand away.

"I'm gonna leave you alone to think for a little," she said, reverting back to their previous conversation about Jay. She sauntered over to the door, glancing back at Trish once she'd reached it.

"And Trish... don't let what happened to us happen to you and Jay. It's the worst feeling in the world knowing you have no other choice but to break up with someone you truly love."

---------------

The redheaded diva pulled the locker room door shut behind her, holding on to the handle for another minute before releasing her grip. She took a deep breath, turning away from the door. She took only one step before smacking into someone, an apology slipping from her lips as her eyes became level with a man's chest.

"Excuse me - oh... hi," he replied anxiously, and Amy's eyes widened, immediately recognizing the voice. As if it could be mistaken for anyone else...

"Adam..." she breathed, glancing up to meet his green eyes.

Well, speak of the devil. The fact that she had been talking about him only minutes earlier made the encounter all the more awkward. An uneasy smile curled her lips as she tried her best to force a grin.

"How are you?" he asked, backing up a pace and then shifting back and forth from his right to his left foot.

Amy tore her gaze from him, her eyes fixing on the floor just below them. Part of her appreciated the niceties, and that he was taking the time to use them... but the fact that he didn't sound too sincere tore at her heart strings. Hell, just looking at him made her want to melt into his arms. She couldn't let him to do this to her.

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied with a shrug, eyes still cast downward, transfixed on her sneakers. "How 'bout you?"

Adam swallowed hard, a thick lump forming in his throat. He hated that things had to be like this between them. Sure, they could have been a lot worse... they were still civil with one another, and there was hardly any bad blood between them. But it still wasn't right. The reality of seeing her before him and knowing he could no longer touch her was torture. It was like an entire section of his heart was taken from him and held in front of him, just out of his grasp.

"I'm fine as well," he lied, after some hesitation.

Somehow he knew she was lying as well. Neither of them were fine when they spoke to one another. They could manage on their own, but seeing each other in such close proximity only ceased to remind him of what they had... and he missed it. He missed her.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Amy lifted her head, tucking a loose auburn strand behind her ear. Her mouth opened slightly as though she was going to speak, but not surprisingly, no words came out.

"I..." Adam said, looking away as his heart began to beat rapidly against the inside of his chest. He took a deep breath, surveying his surroundings... and then he frowned. "I better be going."

An unmistakable feeling of hurt stung at Amy's heart, but despite the protests in her mind, she stepped out of his way. Focing a smile as best she could, she gestured for him to pass.

"I guess I'll just... talk to you later, then."

"Yeah..." was all he could manage to say, mustering up an awkward looking wave before stepping past her.

As he went on his way, Amy found herself again chewing on her lip... this time, in an attempt to fight the tears that had begun welling up in her eyes.


	5. Part 5

**Part Five**  
Jay turned over in bed, a groan slipping from his lips. His back had been acting up terribly over the past three days, especially at night. Needless to say, he hadn't gotten much sleep. Tonight had been especially horrible. He had been tossing and turning for hours, and the pain in his spine throbbed with each minute.

For the most part, his rehab was going well. He had gotten over the helplessness he had been experiencing, and he found little things he could do around the house to keep himself active without stressing his injury. Trish planned to move in with him soon, so he spent much of his time planning the rearrangements that would be made to accomodate an extra person in the house. He wasn't doing anything too physical, though, which was why he couldn't understand why he was in such terrible pain.

Resting on his side, Jay placed a hand at the small of his back, the pain become damn near excruciating. He groaned again, and then sat up. He couldn't take it any longer.

Rising gingerly from the bed, Jay shuffled to the bathroom, clutching at his back all the while. He flipped the light switch on, squinting as the lights illuminating the room blinded him. He opened the medicine cabinet, shuffling around the various tubes and bottles until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out the bottle, examining it as if he had never seen it before.

His stomach knotted just a little, but he ignored it. After all the horror stories he heard, he felt a pang of guilt each time he went to take a pill. But he couldn't deny that these pain killers did their job. And he certainly needed to get rid of the unbearable pain he was having. Sure, he had already taken a pill that morning, but it had long since worn off. Taking another to help him get to sleep wouldn't hurt.

He popped the lid off the bottle and took one pill out, grabbing a plastic cup from the dispenser above the sink. After swallowing the medication with a swig of water, Jay wiped the excess water from the corners of his mouth with a towel. He paused for a moment, leaning against the wall as he took a deep breath. The prescription the doctor had given him was pretty potent, so he suspected it wouldn't take too long for it to kick in.

On his way back to the bedroom, he could hear his cell phone ringing. Thankful that he had brought it to bed with him, instead of leaving it downstairs as he normally did, he hurried as best as he could manage back to the bedroom. He picked his phone up off the dresser where it was sitting and glanced at the screen. The number was listed as unavailable. He was tempted to let it go, but his inquiring mind got the best of him, and he flipped the phone open.

"Hello?" he asked in a peculiar tone, wondering who could be calling him so late.

"Jay, it's Tomko," a deep voice called from the other line.

"Oh, hey man, what's up?" he asked curiously.

The two of them hadn't spoken much since he'd left. They pretty much communicated through Trish.

"Nothing... listen, I have some bad news..."

Jay felt his stomach drop a little, and he walked over to the bed to sit down. Any conversation that started out like that could not be good. Almost automatically, his girlfriend came to mind.

"Is it Trish?" he asked worriedly.

His heart began to beat just a little faster when Tomko didn't answer right away.

"Actually, yeah..." Tyson said slowly. "But don't worry too much, boss. She's alright, but she got hurt at tonight's show."

A frown came across Jay's face as he cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"What happened? Where is she?" he asked, half prepared to jump out of bed and throw on some clothes.

"We're at a hospital right now. She really is okay, just a broken hand," he said calmly.

In all honesty, Tyson was much more nervous than he sounded. But after working with Jay for awhile, he knew just how the Canadian would react to this type of news. So, for his sake, he thought it'd be best to remain calm.

"Just a broken hand!" Jay cried. Sure, it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened, but that didn't mean she was okay. "Can I talk to her?"

"They're fitting her cast right now, she asked me to call before she went in. I'll have her call you as soon as she's released," Tyson assured him.

Jay sighed, using his free hand to rub at his eyes. After a long silence, he agreed.

"Alright... I'll talk to you later," he said, ending the call.

A heavy exhale left his lips as he tossed his phone aside. Regardless of his back pain, he knew he would not be able to get to sleep now... not until he heard from Trish. As silly as it sounded, he got the terrible feeling that this wouldn't have happened had he been there. And at least if it had, he could have been there for her. He couldn't shake the image of his girlfriend sitting alone in a hospital room.

He knew he was overreacting. Trish was an extremely tough young woman, and a broken hand would be the smallest of setbacks to her. But he also knew that, though she'd never in a million years admit it, she would probably need some comforting. And as good-natured as he knew Tomko was, he suspected he wasn't the most comforting individual.

Turning over to his side, Jay closed his eyes in an attempt to lull himself to sleep. As he listened to the sounds of his own breathing, a tugging sensation pulled at his heart. He realized at that moment just how much he missed Trish. Lying alone in their bed every night caused intense feelings of isolation and lonliness to sweep over him. Opening his eyes in the middle of night and not seeing the head of blonde hair beside him reminded him of his solitude. Waking up with no one to hold in the morning was killing him.

Then, a thought occured to him. If Trish broke her hand, she would obviously not be allowed to wrestle. And if that was the case, she would have to stay home... with him. Not to say he didn't feel terrible about her unfortunate injury, but it wouldn't be hard for him to accept being able to see her everyday again.

A hint of a smile touched the edges of his mouth as he felt himself drifting into a slumber. Perhaps this injury was a blessing in disguise.


	6. Part 6

**Part 6**  
"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Jay asked as he checked over her one more time. 

Trish rolled her eyes, sighing as she shifted on the couch. She knew he meant well, but it wasn't as though she was on her death bed. He had her laying up in a fortress of pillows so thick she could hardly see around them.

"Jay, I broke my hand," she said, waving her cast in the air as a reminder. "I really don't think all this is necessary."

Jay paused, looking over her once more. He supposed it was a bit much.

"You're right, I'm sorry," he admitted. "Just wanted to make sure you were taken care of."

Trish smiled as a sheepish look crossed Jay's face. She tossed some of the pillows to the floor, rising from the couch. She made her way over to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

"That's sweet of you, baby," she said thoughtfully. "But I'm just fine. If anything, I should be taking care of you."

Jay felt a smile growing on his own face. Her grin was contagious. He sighed, wrapping his arms around her. He hugged her tightly, pleased to discover his back felt perfectly fine.

"Honestly, I feel great," he told her.

Trish smiled, "Guess those painkillers are doing their job."

Though his hold on her remained firm, Jay's smile diminished. He had been having a lot of trouble getting to sleep as of late... for some rason, the pain was always worst at night. He started taking extra pills - just one, and only on nights when he experienced exceptional discomfort. He wasn't pleased with himself for taking more than his doctor prescribed, but in those instances he just had to.

Still, he knew he remained in control. He just didn't want Trish to know. He knew her well enough to anticipate her reaction, and that was not something he wished to deal with.

"Yeah, they... they really work," he replied with an awkward shrug.

He gave her one more squeeze before letting go, and then made his way over to the couch. He bent down to clear the rest of the pillows, wincing as he felt a slight twinge in his lower back. He plopped down on the cushion, gesturing for her to join him. She sauntered over and sat down beside him, snuggling up against him.

"You know what the bright side of this broken hand is," Jay said, running his finger over the hard cast on her wrist. "We'll get to spend some time together."

The prospect of the two of them being home together brought a very tranquil feeling to him. As corny as it sounded, he loved the idea that they would be able to go to the movies, shop, do things around he house together. It was all very domestic.

"Yeah," Trish agreed with a bright smile. "We'll have to do as much as possible this week."

Jay did a double take.

"W-what?" he asked incredulously. "What did you say?"

"We have to spend a lot of time together this week," she repeated. "You know, before I get back on the road."

Jay could barely stop his jaw from dropping. Going back on the road? Was she serious?

"Why would you go back on the road next week?" he questioned, staring at her in disbelief. "You can't wrestle."

Trish frowned, glancing up at Jay. She knew he was looking forward to spending time with her, as she was with him. She only hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed.

"I know, but Vince and the writers say it doesn't matter. They still want to write me into the shows, because right now I'm the only diva on Raw getting major heel heat," she explained.

Jay couldn't prevent a frustrated sigh from escaping his lips.

"Trish, I wanted to have you around the house with me," he said sadly, lowering his gaze.

"I know you did, honey, and believe me, I want to be home with you, too," she said. "But if creative is going to give me something to work with till I can wrestle again, I'm going to show up."

She cupped her hand under his chin, lifting his gaze from the floor. A hurt look filled her brown eyes as he swatted her hand away.

"Jay, stop..." she started calmly.

"I'm sorry," he said, though his tone said otherwise. "I don't mean to be bitter, but I just found out I've got at least another month of sitting in an empty house."

"Jay, you know if you were in my position you'd be doing exactly the same as I am!" she cried, taking offense to his remark, and his tone. "Besides, you've been here for weeks already, you've got things to do."

"Oh yeah, Trish," he spat, no longer bothering to disguise his anger. "It's real fun sitting inside all day starting at the fucking walls! And for the record, if I were in your position, I'd be a little more compassionate to my significant other's situation, and I'd take the damn time off."

Trish immediately rose from the couch, crossing her arms in front of her with a huff. A testy glare lit up her eyes. She in no way deserved to be spoken to in this manner.

"Well why don't I just go and break my leg while I'm at it?" she quipped sarcastically. "Better yet, I'll quit! I don't need that dream career anyway, so long as I can stay home and listen to you mope every goddamn second of the day."

Jay groaned loudly, smacking his forehead.

"Don't turn this around on me..." he said, his tone dropping drastically.

"Turn it around on you?" she said in utter shock. "What the hell is your problem? You attack me and expect me not to defend myself? Do you have any idea how irrational you're being?"

Jay remained silent, his eyes finding the floor once again. She was right. And damned if he tried to win this argument... he should have known better. He hadn't won an argument since the day they got together. Nobody could outwit Trish Stratus in a verbal battle. He exhaled slowly, rising from the couch.

"Trish, I'm sorry," he said, as he carefully approached her. "It's just... I'm having trouble with all this. It's getting to me more than I thought it would, and I just thought that having you around would make it easier."

Trish forced herself to look away, knowing full well that one look into those charming blue eyes would make her melt. She was far too pissed to melt.

"I'm doing my best to make it easier, Jay, but there's only so much I can do. Every second I'm home, I'm with you. I call you all the time. I do everything for you. I can't put my career on hold, not now. Not while I'm the champion. If you really expect that of me, than I cannot believe how ungrateful you are. This is hard for me, too," she told him.

"I know," he said sheepishly, reaching to her. "And Trish, I..."

"Save it," she said in response.

She shrugged out of his grasp and bounded up the stairs, leaving him behind.


	7. Part 7

**Part 7**

Trish giggled, wrinkling her nose at the corny joke Adam cracked. She shook her head, using her good hand to playfully punch him on the arm.

Adam grabbed his bicep, feigning a pained look as the two Canadians walked down the hall together. After a brief silence, Adam's expression grew serious.

"How's Jay doing?" he asked her suddenly. "I've called a few times, but he doesn't seem to want to talk to me when I do."

Trish frowned, a tired sigh escaping her lips. Jay didn't seem to want to talk to anyone these days. And despite the fact that she was still furious with him because of their fight, she was extremely worried. This was exactly what she feared would happen to him.

"Honestly, Adam, I haven't even spoken to him in three days," she told him with a shrug.

Adam paused, raising a curious eyebrow at her.

"Are you guys okay?" he asked, a hopeful gaze in his green eyes.

He would hate to see the pair fighting. He knew first-hand what injuries did for relationships, and he'd hate to see his friends suffer a similar fate. Once again, Trish replied with a shrug.

"I'm sure we're fine," she said, though her tone wasn't as confident. "We just had a big fight a few days ago, but we'll get over it."

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked, cocking his head to the side to glance down at her.

Trish looked up at him, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair away from her face. If anyone would understand the strain of an injury on a relationship, Adam would be the man. There was a possibility he would have some advice to offer her.

"Well, I think I'm just overreacting about the whole thing," Trish started, crossing her arms over her chest. "To make a long story short, he thought I'd be rehabbing my hand at home, and when I told him otherwise, he flipped. Not that I didn't do my share of yelling, but I just couldn't believe he came at me for wanting to get back on the road. He just seemed so immature about the whole thing."

Adam nodded perceptively, biting his lip. He held back a frown as he glanced away, not wanting to upset her. This situation sounded all too familiar.

"I'm sure it's nothing, Trish," he said after a slight hesitation.

"You don't sound so sure about that," she noted.

Adam sighed, offering her a reassuring smile, "I'm positive. It was just a fight... you know how Jay can be."

Trish nodded in agreement. While her boyfriend was usually very laid back, he at times had a firey temper. The pair continued on, until their silence was interrupted by the ringing of Trish's cell phone. She pulled it from her pocket, examining the display screen.

"What's up, Ames?" she answered with a smile.

Adam's stomach dropped at the mention of Amy's name. It was the same feeling he'd gotten every time he heard her name.

"Get your ass to the locker room, pronto! It's an emergency," Amy called from the other line.

Trish shook her head, laughing at the mock urgency in her friend's voice. She stopped walking and turned to face Adam, who had since frozen in his tracks.

"Let me go see what the hell she wants," she said to him.

Adam nodded weakly, remaining in his spot even after Trish had hurried off. He sighed, the butterflies in his stomach increasing rapidly by the second. Resting his back against the nearby wall, he closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He forced himself to control his breathing, sighing again.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was still so far in... and at this point, Adam wondered if he would ever be able to get out.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"I refuse to reveal such personal information!"

Stacy winced as a piece of chicken, having been flung from Trish's fork, hit her in the cheek. She reached up in distate, wiping the moisture from her face. She glared at Trish, and the blonde diva simply shook her head, digging her fork back into her salad.

Amy's "emergency" phone call hadn't been urgent at all... just requesting that, since they had some down time to kill, the three ladies go out to lunch. Since their arrival, Amy and Trish had been drilling the leggy diva nonstop for details about her relationship with Chris. So far, Stacy had given up close to nothing.

"This coming from the girl who called me three seconds after Drew asked her out to tell me," Amy rolled her eyes. "Just spill it, Keibs... you know you want to."

Stacy bit her lip, and though her brown eyes were nervous, she smiled. Trish took note of the small expression, and she asked a much simpler question.

"Are you guys official or not?" she inquired, sending her a questioning stare.

When Stacy hesitated, Trish loaded another piece of chicken onto her fork, aiming it at her menacingly. Throwing her hands up in retreat, Stacy caved.

"Alright, alright!" she cried. "Yeah... we're official."

She closed her eyes, the content of what she had admitted sinking in on her. It was the first time those words had left her mouth since Chris had asked her out that weekend. When she opened her eyes, Amy and Trish beamed at her, both women genuinely excited for her new relationship.

"That's wonderful, Stace!" Trish said. "You two are made for each other."

"Yeah, and it's about damn time, too," Amy added, shaking her head. "You guys have only been fooling around for God knows how long."

"Anyway," Stacy said, ignoring the redhead's comment. "Trish, how are things with Jay? Chris and I have been wondering about him lately."

Almost immediately, the grin slipped from Trish's face. She glanced down, stabbing at a piece of lettuce on her plate. Amy noticed her changed demeanor right away, and concern flooded her hazel eyes.

"What is it?" she asked, her tone softening considerably.

Trish sighed... she really didn't want to talk about her fight with Jay again. Then again, she didn't really finish her conversation with Adam, and if anyone knew as well as he did, it was Amy. Perhaps she'd actually be able to get some answers this time. She shifted her gaze to Stacy for a moment before resting her eyes on Amy.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly recounted her week with Jay, starting with their argument. Throughout her entire explanation, a frown marred Amy's face. This story hit way too close to home. Hell, if she closed her eyes, she could very well have been talking to herself. She didn't have the heart to tell Trish, but their case was identical to hers and Adam's, before their breakup. She hoped with all her heart that they would not suffer the same demise.

"It's not so much the fight that bothers me," Trish concluded, "it's his attitude. He is absolutely impossible to please anymore."

Both of the women across from her nodded in silence. Stacy picked up her glass of water and took a sip, but Amy remained still. Her head was still reeling. Jay was never a pessimistic person... and neither was she, which was probably why they were so close. Where would the sudden attitude problem come from?

The more she thought about him, she realized that she could not recall the last time she'd even spoken to Jay, let alone seen him. A determined look filled her expression as returned her focus to Trish. If anyone could figure out what was up Jay's ass, it was her.

"You know what," she began, "I think it's time I paid your boyfriend a visit."


End file.
